Funky Drummer Demons
by Shorty Carter
Summary: --ON HOLD-- Come read and find out what its all about! Warning, insanity thrives within the pages of this story.
1. Meet the Marshallites

Funky Drummer Demons  
Chapter 1  
By: Shorty Carter

* * *

"Cheer up, the worst is yet to come." - unknown

* * *

"Puck, have you seen my drumsticks?"

"Why would I have seen your drumsticks?"

"Ah!"

"You bloody bastard! Get back here with my mallets!"

"Put the hammer down, Venni, you can kill him later."

"Hey guys, are you all warmed up?" The group of screaming, laughing, confused kids looked up to see their drum teacher walking towards them. Some hid their weapons, some came out of their hiding spots, while others said hello to the teacher.

"Almost," came the reply to Mr. P's question. He grinned, knowing that that meant they weren't.

"Do we at least have everyone?"

"Almost."

"Who are we missing?" he asked, pulling out music for them.

"Shorty, Runt, Demon, and Peeps I think," Kelli "Seeker" Carter said, pulling her drumsticks out of Puck's back pocket. "I thought you said you hadn't seen them!"

"I didn't! My butt did! You never asked my butt!" Andy "Puck" Ogdahl shot back, grinning. Seeker lunged for him, and the two went rolling.

"Guys, guys! Calm down! Now, do you know when they'll be here?"

"Have no clue. They said they were going to go pick up Demon and Peep's crap and drop it off at the apt."

"Demon and Peeps got kicked out of their houses again, didn't they?" Mr. P asked, sitting on the edge of the stage.

"Yep! But it was for a little thing this time! All they did was set the garbage cans on fire!" Ryan

"Mallets" Meyer explained, setting up his tenor.

"How many people do we have then this year, counting those missing?" "11ish. Depending on if we get more pit people."

"Good, we'll still have room."  
  
"Why? 11 are a good number. Last year we had 10," Venni said, removing the cover from the marimba.

"Well, you all know the Lynd schools finally closed, right?" Mr. P asked. The kids nodded.

"So we're getting some new students. There's some drummers, really good ones too, and I told them to come to practice."

"Why?"

"Because we still need more bass, snare, tenor, and pit people. Plus, the girls out-number the boys right now. It'll be good to get some more guys."

"What are we all discussing? It better not be our outfits for this."

"Look who finally showed up," Stephanie "Bridge" Bridgeland said, coming in from the opposite door.

"I could say the same for you, Bridge," Diane "Shorty" Carter spat back, walking in with Runt, Demon, and Peeps.

"Oh, that's 12 Mr. P!" Ginger "Trash" Pals yelled before turning to Susan "Susie Q" Verly and whispering, "I forgot the Bitch."

"We still have room for more!"

"What are we discussing?" Tommy "Peeping Tom" Ahmann asked, walking up the stage steps to search for his snare.

"Mr. P invited newbies."

"Guys, come on. Newbies are that bad! Hey, you may even find you like them!" Mr. P said, trying to encourage them. It didn't really work.

"But we're a family, Mr. P! We all stay in one apt, we all act like each other; we're like family!" Brittany "Runt" Boogard whined, not liking the idea of newbies.

"We're adding to the family then. Think of it as getting some new brothers and sisters."

"Are they going to have to stay at the apt?" Mallets asked, pulling out the bag of drumsticks. Shorty followed, none to happy, and began to feverishly clean her cymbals. Ryan, Ryan Meyer that is, laughed when he saw this. There were three Ryans' in the Winter Drumline, also known as the Funky Drummer Demons. Ryan Bayerkohler, Shorty's boyfriend, given the name Demon for his ways of drumming; Ryan Meyer, given the name Mallets for the one time he managed to aim and break a light while throwing his tenor mallets in the air; and finally The Ryan, given the name The Ryan because the other two.

"They might. Some will for sure, because I met their parents. Others, you'll have to ask." "Newbies in the apt. Great! Make my day why don't you!" Shorty muttered, setting the cymbals down and picking up the duct tape, electric tape, and salt ball they used for stress relief and throwing it at the door. It just barely missed a group of kids coming in.

"What, sick of us already?"


	2. Introductions and Saturday Night Fights

Funky Drummer Demons  
Chapter 2

* * *

"They're plotting dark things against us." "Good. Maybe they'll keep us entertained." -Nelson Demille's 'Cathedral'

* * *

"Name's Jack Kelly, and this here is Patrick Conlon, other wise known as Spot," Jack said, introducing himself and the boy beside him. Spot looked at each Marshallite, wondering if they did anything besides yell comebacks and be lazy.

"What are you guys, the leaders or somethin'?" Trash asked, watching them from her couch in Drummer's Corner. Drummer's Corner, the far left corner of the stage, was a place the drummers of Marshall claimed as their own and had filled with falling apart couches, chairs, torn blankets and pillows. The rule was, if you were a drummer, you could claim a spot in Drummer's Corner. The only catch was, if you were a newbie from another town, you had to prove yourself worthy of the right.

"Yeah, we are. What are you, the smartass of Marshall?" Spot spat, glaring at them.

"No, that would be me." The Villagers all turned to see who had spoken, laughing when their eyes saw her. The nearest laughing person got a brand new bruise on their face.

"Vennie, watch it. Just because they're little sad, pathetic Villagers doesn't mean you can beat them up."

"Pathetic?"

"What did we do to them?"

"Maybe they just got something up their..."

"Guys! Language!" They all turned to see Mr. P standing there, face livid.

"Oh crap," Shorty muttered nervously, getting up to go over to the instruments.

"Carter, get your behind back over here!" Shorty shuffled back, visibly shaking.

"Don't yell at her P."

"Yeah, we don't want a repeat of last week."

"Do we need to remind you why not to yell at her?" Demon inquired, walking over to stand next to his girl.

"Sorry Diane. I forgot," Mr. P said, calming a bit. Shorty nodded, calming also. The Villagers looked on in confusion.

"Alright, I want you to practice the first five songs in your binders. New kids, go to the section leaders for music and instrument assignments. I have to go take my daughter to the doctor for a checkup. I should be back in about an hour." Mr. P grabbed his coat, face stern as he said, "Please don't fight while I'm gone. Our first show is in two weeks, and I actually want to place near the top. Work hard!"

"Alright, here's how it's gonna play out. If you play tenor, go to Mallets over there. If you play bass, go to Runt. Don't laugh! She's got more skills that you'll ever have in three lifetimes!" Brittney "Runt" Boogaard stood up to her full 4'6" and waited for the bass drummers to come to her. "You play cymbals, head over to Shorty. You play snare, go to either Demon or me. And if you play in the pit, go to...Vennie! Get back over here! You can kill him later!" Peeping Tom yelled, watching as the girl knocked the Village leader to the ground. Without blinking she sat on his stomach and pinned his hands to the floor.

"You know," Spot croaked out, trying to get away from the girl, "if you weren't trying to kill me right now, I'd take full advantage of the position we're in."

Vennie landed a punch in his face, yelling, "You bloody perv!" She aimed again, but this time something- or rather someone knocked her off the boy, sending her rolling across the floor till she landed with the person sitting on her back.

"Whoa, Vennie's like twice the size of Shorty, and yet she's pinned by the girl!" Nick "Mush" Myers exclaimed, stunned.

"That's because Shorty is the only person who can do that to Vennie. They've been friends since Ven's dad became a pastor at the Methodist church. Shorty's the only one Ven'll stop for," The Ryan explained, laughing as Shorty stood up only to be knocked to the floor again. Vennie stood up, victorious over a laughing Shorty.

"Well, come on now. Let's get started." They shuffled their way over to the instruments, the tension having lifted a little.  
  
"Uncle Mike! Aunt Sherry! Yo Josh, where's your parents?" Shorty asked her cousin, her younger cousin sitting on her shoulders. Josh Carter shrugged, then nodded to his friends. Katie, the younger cousin, just shook her head and grinned.

"Do you know anything, J.J.?" Seeker asked, fighting with the lock on the apt. door.

"Um, Demon? What are we doing here?" Saiorse "Irish" Callan asked, watching Shorty argue with her cousin.

"Well, remember when we asked you if you lived at home or not?" Irish nodded. "All of you who said no are going to live here with us, which would be all of you. Shorty gets half a floor for real cheap because her uncle owns the apt building. Only rule is you pay $15 a week to stay here. You get three warnings before you get kicked out if you miss payment." Seeker yelled in triumph, kicking the door open.

"Seeks, you get weirder every time I see you," Josh said, laughing as his cousin did her victory dance. (Shorty and Seeker are sisters)

"Alright everyone! Inside!" They all filed in, standing in awe at what was laid before them. Man, these Marshallites lived well! In front of them was an open living room, which flowed into the dinning room as well as the kitchen. At the end of the living room was a doorway leading to the bedrooms.

"It didn't always used to look like this. We fixed the place up with our own money," Susie Q said, heading for the fridge.

"And our own muscles!" Puck piped in, flexing his muscles. Seeker just laughed at him, punching him playfully.

"Those of us who have them, hockey boy!"

"Alright, bedroom assignments. Yes, assignments. My uncle wants no pregnant teens, so girls on one side of the hall, boys on the other. And yes, my special Marshallites, you will have a room mate. Poor, poor you," Shorty yelled, laughing. Everyone else groaned, the looks on their faces priceless.

"You're such a brat, Shorts," Josh said, standing beside his cousin.

"You're right, I am. But at least I love it! All right everyone, pair up! Find a room! Go, go, go!" They all set out to pair up and find rooms, and eventually the room assignments looked like this:  
  
Room 1 – Shorty and Vennie   
Room 3 – Runt and Seeker   
Room 5 – Trash and Susie Q   
Room 7 – Swinger and Irish   
Room 9 – Sparks and Bourbon   
Room 11 – Mem and Brownie   
Room 13 – Riddle (at some points Josh will be spending the night too)  
  
Room 2 – Demon and Peeping Tom   
Room 4 – Puck and Mush   
Room 6 – Mallets and The Ryan   
Room 8 – Cowboy and Spot   
Room 10 – Racetrack and Kid Blink   
Room 12 – Boots and Bumlets   
Room 14 – Itey and Snitch  
  
Once everyone had their rooms picked out they set to the task of moving in, or in the Marshallites case moving rooms. Right up to supper the sounds of yelling, beds scraping across the floor, and music could be heard, all on loud notes. Finally everyone was moved in and supper was being made.

"You all got jobs or somethin'?" Brownie asked, stuffing her face with nachos. Supper that night consisted of whatever was lying around. This meant that tomorrow, after work, they'd have to go shopping. Or in some cases bring home whatever was left at days end from the places they worked at and eating that.

"We live here don't we? Course we got jobs. The only three who don't have jobs is Seeker, Puck, and Runt. And that's only because Shorty refuses to let them work until next year."

"Where's she work?"

"Vet's clinic on a scholarship. We may have had hard lives, but at least we learn from it and still go to school. Ven works at the local museum helping with Egyptian crap and what not," Mallets said, getting whacked in the head for the Egyptian crap part.

"Alright, rule of the place. You stay up at all hours of the night, I'd better not hear you. And if I were you, I'd get to bed soon," Trash said, heading off for the bathroom.

"Why?" Ian "Riddle" Cahill asked, looking after the girl who left.

"Oh, it's just something we suggest."  
  
"If they don't shut up in five seconds, the cops will have to arrest me for man slaughter."

It was 3 in the morning and the sounds of thumps and crashes could be heard even in the bedrooms. Now, there's something many people ought to know. If you live in the same apartment as Vennie and Trash, you never want to wake them up. Especially at 3 in the morning. The fact that they know it's the newbies doesn't make things much better.

"Someone's gonna die," Trash sang softly, grabbing the duct tape out of her dresser drawer and walking into the hallway, where she was met by Vennie with even more duct tape. The plan was simple: attack them one by one and duct tape them to their beds. Walking into the living room, they were met with the sight of 4 very loud and awake Villagers. Sneaking slowly to their hiding spots, they waited silently. Snitch was the first one to walk into the hallway, and was quickly knocked to the ground with a muffled cry.

"Make a sound and we'll make sure something bad happens to you. Got it?" Trash whispered, taping his arms behind his back. Vennie tapped his legs and ankles together, then took a strip and taped his mouth shut. They then heaved him to his room and came back for more. Kid Blink and Itey followed, all silent. But then there was Racetrack. Poor, poor Racetrack. He just had to open his mouth and start babbling. So, they taped his mouth first. Then, after carrying him into the hall, they proceeded to tape him to the door of the apartment. What a sight Shorty's uncle would see when he opened his door to get the paper and find a boy dressed only in boxers and taped to a door. Poor, poor Racetrack.  
  
Alright! There you have it! The SECOND chapter of FDD! Don't worry, if I haven't used your name yet, I will in the third chapter. There's a whole mess of characters to introduce yet, so hang in there. Look forward to the next chapter soon!


	3. Church and Debate Class

Funky Drummer Demons   
Chapter 3   
By: Shorty Carter

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to a wonderful teacher and respected person, Mr. Aaron Cheadle. He has been serving in Kuwait for most of this year, and will continue to serve this summer and most of the upcoming school year. Without his teachings and just being there for me, I would have never developed into the person and writer I am today. Pray for him and his family.

* * *

"Above all things, never be afraid. The enemy who forces you to retreat is himself afraid at that very moment." -Andre Maurios

* * *

You call me crazy man you make my day   
My state of residence was disarray   
At every party and as far as anybody knew   
Everything was cool, but   
The truth was bottled up inside of me   
I was as lonely as a man could be   
And my 200 friends couldn't fill the void in my soul   
It was a giant hole.  
-dc Talk (can't remember the title)  
  
"Get up! Up! Move it! Come on! Church starts at 10! Let's go!" With Shorty in a skirt and Vennie as close to one as she dared go, the two went down the hall, banging on doors and throwing open a few. Dc Talk music blasted from the stereo, alerting everyone to the fact that it was way too early in the morning.  
"That wasn't a suggestion, you lazy bums! Come on, out of bed!" They finally resorted to using their weapon of mass amusement, as the Marshallites called it. Normal people knew them as squirt guns. Barging into rooms, they began to soak anyone still in bed. Most of the girls had gotten up and were stumbling towards the bathroom, but most of the guys got the full soaking treatment. Shorty ran across a few duct taped Villagers and laughed, knowing it was the work of Vennie and Trash. When she came to the room Blink and Race were sharing, she noticed one of the boys was missing. And she hadn't seen him stumble out, either.  
"AHHHHH!"  
"Well, I know where Race went." She went to the front door, opening it and finding a duct taped Racetrack only in his boxers. "Race, what are you doing up there?" She ripped the tape off his mouth, letting loose a yell from the boy.  
"They did it! That Vennie girl and Trash!"  
"Diane, what is this poor boy doing taped to the door?" Shorty's aunt asked, still in her robe.  
"Sorry Aunt Sherry, guess some of my friends got a little too rowdy last night." She started pulling Race down, asking, "Hey Auntie, is Josh almost ready? Church is in an hour."  
"He's just getting dressed. I'll send him and Katie over when they're finished."  
"Thanks." Shorty finally got Race down, laughing when he high-tailed it for his room. She met Vennie in the hall again and the two began inspections, seeing who was dressed for church and who wasn't.  
"Mush! Jeans are not church wear! You got nice pants; you wear 'em! Skittery, no shirts with writing! No Puck, you may not wear your Hockey outfit. Church wear guys! Follow the girls' example!" People groaned, some heading back into their rooms to change. Shorty finally gave up and barged into rooms, not caring what she saw. Spot nearly fell over backwards, yanking his pants on. Vennie laughed from the doorway, pleased to see the leader blush.  
"Nice abs, Spotty-boy. Love the ducky boxers."  
"Spot, I've seen a guy in boxers before. Quit blushing." Shorty picked up a shirt and threw it at him. "Put this on and actually wear a belt. Same goes for you, Cowboy." She left, doing the exact same to Mush, except Mush actually fell over with his pants still around his ankles. Finally everyone was there and ready, and off to church they went, returning home sometime after lunch.  
  
The drummers sat in silence as the two fought in Demon's room. The sermon at church that morning had been about telling the truth, even when it hurt. Pastor Jim, Vennie's dad, had used an example of rape and telling no matter what. As soon as the service was over, Demon's questions had started. Short had held off answering as long as she could, but the fight was steadily getting worse. No one dared to stop the two. "Why can't I know? My God Shorty, I love you! I deserve to know!"  
"Quit yelling at me! I'll tell you when I can handle it! Just quit yelling!"  
"It happened a while ago, Shorts! They've been locked up; they aren't going to come after you!"  
"They have been tormenting me since that night Demon! Quit yelling!"  
"But I don't understand!" She walked out of the room, over to her room, slammed the door shut and locked it. The rest of the kids watched on in shock, wondering what had just happened. Demon walked out, face fallen. Vennie got up, followed by Josh, and went to talk with Shorty. Demon sank to the floor, putting his face in his hands.  
"I really messed up this time."  
  
The kids didn't see Shorty till breakfast the next day, and even then she didn't speak. She drove her carload of drummers to school in total silence. Half of the drumline was in first block together, so they headed there straight away. They're first class of the day was Speech and Debate.  
"Good morning class! Today we're going to do a little debate!" Mr. Cheadle exclaimed, his normal happy goofy grin on his face. "Let's see, Ms. Carter, Mr. Bayerkohler! Up to the front!" Shorty and Demon made their way to the front, not looking at each other. "Open topic!"  
"Open topic? I really don't want to do this, Cheadle," Demon begged.  
"No, you and Carter! Debate something!"  
"Anything?" Cheadle nodded. "Okay, Demon, why don't we debate whether or not someone should be forced to talk about their past? Or how about not yelling at someone who's been abused?"  
"Shorty, I-"  
"No, let me talk. You really want to know? All right, I'll tell you. I was raped by my father, but he did it the last night at the house. And when he was done, he and mother beat me. The neighbors could hear, they knew something wasn't right. My parents then literally threw me out the door, and then father came after me. He had something shiny in his hand, and this mad look on his face. I thought he was going to kill me, that my life was over.  
"But that didn't happen. The neighbors called the police, and some of the men came and restrained father. The ambulance came and they took me to the hospital." She stopped to take a breath, her eyes bright. "You know how long I spent at the hospital? 3 months, Demon. And I was so shaken by all the yelling outside that they had to move me to an isolated room. When I finally could come home I went to live with my Uncle. My sister was already there, but I couldn't stand to look at her. I stayed away from all guys, staying mostly in Katie's room crying in her little arms. Finally one night, while I was sobbing my heart out again in fear, Josh came and comforted me.  
"He sat up with me all night, and then and there I decided I would get on with life, with his help. But I still couldn't stand yelling. So I took up drumming. When I picked up a pair of sticks I could just beat out all my fear and anger."  
"Shorty-"  
"You wanted to know; well, now you know." She turned and fled the room, leaving behind shocked and tearful faces.  
  
Out in the hall, Riddle and Race were on break with their class when they saw Shorty run by, her face red with tears. Concerned for their new friend, they followed her. She ran into the theater, yanking open the door to the roof and racing up the stairs. The metal of the steps sounded in the narrow staircase, followed by the sound of pounding on the roof door. Shorty sank to the metal step she was on, crying into her knees.  
"Shorty?" She didn't look up, only sobbed louder.  
"Shorty, what's wrong? Shorty, come on. You can tell us," Riddle said, sitting beside her. Race sat on the other side, each of them putting an arm around her. When she finally calmed she looked up, starring at the far wall.  
"I wasn't always abused. I lived a nice life. Always had food on the table, always had a warm place to sleep. I didn't even know I was being abused when it started. I thought I was being punished, they always told me I was bad. Then it got worse. When I was 3 my sister was born, and for a while things got better. But it went right back to how it was before. When Kelli was old enough to walk and talk they locked her up in the far room and wouldn't let her out for anything. The place could have been on fire and they would have refused to let her out.  
"When I was 10 they whipped me. They used this whip my grandpa used to own, one with little bits of sharp things woven in it. That was a year before they went too far." Shorty went on to tell them what she had told her entire Speech and Debate class. When she was finished they all sat in silence; Race and Riddle trying to figure out what to say.  
"Shorty, I-I don't know what to say."  
"You don't need to. What's done is done, and all that needs to be said has been done so."  
"Is this what you and Demon were fighting about?" Race looked at her, taking her hand in his. Shorty nodded, looking between the two. Maybe Villagers weren't so bad after all.  
"Shorty?" They all looked down to see Demon at the bottom of the steps, clearly worried. Race and Riddle took the hint and left, Demon taking their spot.  
"I'm sorry, Ryan," she whispered, hesitantly looking up at him. Demon took her hand in his, smiling kindly at her.  
"Don't be Carter-girl. I may not know exactly what you've gone through, but I know how you feel. Every time my parents kick me out I feel worthless, like I'm the worst son in the world. But then I come here, and I know everything is gonna be okay." He held her face in his hands, reading her eyes.  
"So you're not mad at me?"  
"I never was mad at you, Shorts. I could never be mad at you." Shorty grinned, hugging him tightly.  
"Good. I don't want to see you mad ever again. I've seen you mad before, and it ain't a pretty sight." They made their way down the steps, hearing a loud bang on the other side of the stairway door.  
"God dang it Conlon! Move your bloody foot!"  
"No, you move your leg!"  
"Great, Seeker and Puck are at it again."  
"Best not tell Shorty then. She'll be pissed as Hell."  
"Ah! You sat on me!"  
"Calm down Swinger, he didn't break anything."  
"Not like you could. There's nothing there."  
"Alright, that does it. Come here you dirty little gambler!"  
"Do you think we should interrupt their orgy? Or just wait until they're done?" Shorty snorted, trying not to laugh too hard. The two cautiously peeked out the door, nearly losing it when they saw the entire winter drum line, plus Josh, all clamoring for a spot at the door.  
"Um, guys? Do you want us to leave and come back later or just let you cool down right now?"  
"Ha, ha. Very funny. If you didn't know so many ways to blackmail me I'd take you down right here and now," Vennie said, shoving Spot out of the way as she got up. Josh came over, shaking his head.  
"Did you two finally say you're sorry?"  
"Yes, if you have to know Mr. I'm-a-drummer-wannabe." Demon glanced at the clock, noticing that second block, Band/Choir, was just beginning. He grinned, knowing that everyone had Independent Study, or IS for the block because Mr. Ivers, the band director (Mr. P is the middle school teacher but his passion is drumming. So therefore he is in charge of the drumlines), and Mrs. Christianson, the choir director, were away at a music conference. This meant that the drummers could practice in the cafeteria as a sort of pre-show for the rest of the IS students.  
"So, are we gonna go practice or not?" Demon received a chorus of duhs and grinned, walking over to find his snare. "Well then, let's get started! And Bridge! No bitching!" Bridge grumbled, walking over to "her" bells. Shorty headed towards her sister, smirking.  
"So, Seeks, what's this I hear about you and Puck 'being at it again?'?" Seeker darted off for her assigned instrument, apparently not wanting to get into this with her sister. "Aw, come on Seeks! You can tell me all about your little romp on the ground with Pucker-up boy!"  
  
There you have it! Chapter wonderful 3! I know, it's dark and touches some major deep topics, but rape has affected my life in a huge way, and I felt this was a good way to express this topic. If you don't like it, too bad. I like it, Vennie likes it, and that's all that matters. I'm sorry, I didn't really get to put all of the people in this chapter. I feel EXTREMELY bad about this. So, here's my promise: all of the people WILL be in the next chapter. I swear. Scout's honor. does little scout salute thing Alright, go off and read some more funky fan fiction! I have drum line practice, so I'm leavin' ya'll. Look for the next chapter within the next few weeks! 


	4. Going Psycho

Funky Drummer Demons – A Newsies Winter Drumline Story  
Chapter 4 – Going Psycho  
By: Vennie and Shorty

"I don't have an attitude problem. You have a perception problem." – Unknown

  
  
Saturday dawned way too early. Vennie jumped out of her bed. Those damn Villagers still hadn't learned. They had stopped being up until all hours of the night, but they were still the last to bed. Every night she could hear them talking in the living room.  
"Men..." She grumbled through her teeth. Grabbing her slippers, she slid them on her feet and walked down to the large bathroom. She found her things and fumed her way through her morning routine. Finishing, her feet carried her back to the room she shared with Shorty. The morning was half over, but Ven had to be at work in an hour.  
Vennie walked down to the living room and found her boots exactly where she had left them last night. This was new.  
Usually they were not "exactly where she had left them". Once they had been under the couch cushions, another time they had been thrown over the ceiling fan. She had been forced to find her boots every morning since the Villager boys had moved in. And they were never in the same spot.  
Ven looked around the living room. Spot was at the counter talking something over with Kid Blink. Mem was lying on the couch and Jack was in one of the large chairs, picking his fingernails with his teeth.  
She looked down tentatively at the pair of boots. She nudged one with her toe. Nothing moved in it. She picked up the other and looked inside it. There was nothing in it.  
Sighing, she set it down and pulled in on to her left foot. "I might have been wrong about them." She thought. Shorty had told her about the scene in the stairway, but Ven still needed to see proof. "Maybe the Villagers can be subdued."  
She picked up the right boot, the one she had prodded with her foot, and pulled it on. An icy cold wetness flooded the inside of her boot. Jack, Kid Blink and Spot started to howl themselves hoarse with laughter. Vennie screamed in outright rage and tore the boot from her foot. Water streamed out of it, carrying several pieces of red rubber with it. The water balloon had been stuffed into the toe of the boot.  
Vennie stood up straight and looked hard at the three laughing faces. A growl escaped her throat and she tore off after them, one foot in a boot, the other slapping wetly against the hard floor of the kitchen in a sock.  
The three Village boys ran for their lives. Vennie had snapped. She ran after the offenders like a madwoman. It might make her late for work, but she didn't care. Today, she would end this.  
Jack and Spot had made it to their room, but just barely. The door was already locked by the time got there. But Blink's room was farther down the hall and he didn't make it. Vennie caught him by the back of the collar and yanked him back. He landed on his back, gasping as the air flew out of her lungs. Ven sat on his chest, pinning him to the floor.  
"YOU! I have a life to live! And you and your friends insist on making my life HELL!" Each word was accented by a blow to Kid Blink's head. "What the hell are you all doing here anyway?! We had enough people in the drumline, but NOOO! You had to come in waving your sticks like raving idiots!" She was past reasoning now. The punches were starting to take their toll on Blink. "Just leave me alone! You men are all the same! Just stop with all th...!"  
A hand clamped itself over her mouth and someone physically pulled her off Blink. Blink sat up and wiped blood from his nose and mouth, his eye wide, black now, staring at the girl who had beat him better than most boys.  
The Ryan yanked Vennie to her feet, pinned her against the wall with his body and shook her by the shoulders.  
"Ven!" What the hell are you doing?" The Ryan said, trying to talk some sense back into her. An angry rumble shook Ven's chest. She worked her foot between them and pushed him away with a kick of her leg, slamming him into the hallway wall.  
"Just back off, Ryan!" She shouted over her shoulder as she stormed into the living room and grabbed her soaked boot. She jammed it on to her foot and tied it quickly. The door rattled on its hinges as she slammed it on her way out.  
  
Vennie sat at a desk in the back of the museum building. The lights were all off except for her desk light. She was studying a papyrus covered in Egyptian hieroglyphs. It was a description of a Pharaoh's honoring ceremony at the temple of Shekmet. Her fingers worked their way across the ancient paper, eyes studying intently the figures that formed words to the ancient scribe who had copied it.  
The text was beautiful. Painted black outlines with gold detail. The sheet was dominated by a picture of Shekmet, the Egyptian goddess of war and destruction. The ancient deity was standing right in the middle of the papyrus, holding a staff in her long-fingered hand. She was starting out straight ahead of her, eyes focused on something the read was not fit to see. The text surrounding her sang her praises, her many titles and names. The small figures declared her immortality. The Pharaoh had honored her with many offerings and sacrifices that day.  
Ven shook her head. "Too many hours." She droned to herself. She had been sitting there for the past 8 hours, pouring over ancient documents texts to confirm their authenticity. Two had been fakes today; some idiot trying to make a quick buck.  
Forgers just served to piss her off. There were enough real documents to fill her time with. To waste an hour or more on a fake...well those were the nights Vennie went home in a bad mood.  
"Speaking of hours..." Ven looked at the clock. 8:30 pm.  
"Ahhh, home." She sighed without thinking about it.  
The caught her off guard. She had surprised herself. Had she really been excited to go home? She shrugged it off to delusions. She had been sitting for a while.  
It was raining now. Clouds had moved in, bringing a heavy rain that had not relented in 3 hours. She had heard it start then by the roar of it on the roof. And Ven had walked to work.  
"Well..." she breathed. "Let's get this over with." She stuffed her hands in her pockets and headed down the block.  
The sun had just set, leaving only a pale light behind the clouds. And it was only going to get darker. Ven smiled to herself. She liked the rain. Liked the smell of it, the sound of it, and the sight of it as it swept over the streets in curtains. But mostly, she liked the feel of it. The touch of rain on skin and hair was something Vennie loved and she would dance outside in the rain whenever she could. Rain calmed her, but it excited her at the same time.  
The street came to a four-way stop and Ven crossed over to the right and continued on the other side. She could see the apartment building ahead of her. It looked sinister in the dark, rainy night. But there was a glow from the upstairs, the drummer's apartment. She could see figures in the window, some running, others just sitting there. She could see head thrown back in laughter, other turned to each other in conversation.  
"Crazy people." She said as she shook her head with a smile.  
Some people thought Vennie was very strange when she talked to no one like that. But that was part of what made her Vennie. She didn't care what others said or thought about her. She was who she was and nothing anybody said was going to change that.  
The ground floor door swung open with a small squeak. Ven smiled to herself again. Shouts were already sounding down the stairway. As much as she would deny it sometimes, this was home.  
Vennie had moved out of her family house because she could not stand to be with her mother anymore. They had been fighting with each other since Ven had turned 12, and it had finally reached a point where Ven didn't want to deal with it and stay at the house anymore. So, she had moved in with Shorty to the apartment. Now the apartment was home. She had never felt "at home" anywhere else.  
She climbed the stair and pushed open the apartment door. The shouts had intensified in volume and number, and they greeted her when she came in, though none were aimed at her.  
"Watch you feet Bourbon! I only got the two I came with!"  
"Watch your own damn feet! I swear you've kicked me at least fifteen times tonight alone!"  
"Has anyone seen the popcorn? I can't find it anywhere!"  
"Don't you touch me!"  
"Popcorn is in the cupboard to the right of the sink!"  
"Stop picking your nose Demon! That's sick!"  
Bourbon kicked mush in the shin and laughed at him. He pushed her down flat on the couch and ran for his room.  
Vennie headed for her own room. Someone had stuck a not - so - nice "post it" note on the door. Shorty snatched it from behind her and walked down to the bathroom to do something nasty to that same someone's toothbrush.  
Vennie walked in and shut the door behind her. The rain was hammering against the window, distorting the image outside. She saw that there was an envelope on the nightstand with her name on it. Just her name, and her nickname at that. Not her real name, which was Stephani. This person knew her well. And there was no apartment address on it. Just her name.  
"Hmmmm..."  
Ven picked it up and took out the small piece of paper inside. The note was hand written.  
  
Vennie,  
Meet me on the apartment roof at 10:30p.m. I will wait for you.  
  
And that was it. There was no name. A confused look knitted her eyebrows together.  
"Who on earth...?" She turned the paper over, to see if there were any clues as to who had written it there. But the back was empty. (A/N: Yes, I do realize that Vennie has not said a complete sentence for about two pages now. But hey, how much would you say under the circumstances?)  
"10:30 eh?"  
  
Vennie's lone figure climbed the short flight of metal stairs to the rooftop door. Rain was still falling. It beat an irregular rhythm on the roof above and she found herself tapping a corresponding beat on the handrail.  
With another squeak, the door opened on to a flat, gravel paved roof. "Someone needs to oil these doors." Ven was speaking to herself again. "Subtlety is something no one believes in around here."  
The metal rigging that dominated the rooftop was almost invisible against the dark sky. She walk towards it, but stopped as a silhouette separated itself from the other shadows.  
"What in the name of all that is good left on this earth are you doing up here? No...scratch that...how did you get up here to begin with?" She called angrily at the silhouette.  
Vennie was seething inside. The shadow moved and its face came into the light from the still open doorway, but she hadn't needed to see his face to know who it was. She knew from the form and the stance.  
The young man was of average height with black hair that fell across his forehead and deep brown eyes. The arms that were folded across the chest were built up, but nothing compared to some of the male drummers downstairs. All in all he looked respectable, but to see Ven's reaction to him you would have thought he had leprosy.  
"I came to see you, Ven. Why else would I come?"  
"You're here to see me? Why? You left; I got over you. End of story." She snapped at him. "Why the hell are you here" Ven was almost spitting with barely concealed rage.  
"I was wrong. I'm sorry. The other girl turned out to be a slut. I wasn't the only one she was 'seeing' at the time."  
"Are you blind?!" Ven was yelling now. "She turned out to be a slut?! I could have told you that right from the first time I saw Amy! I mean...how shallow are you, Seth? She waltzes into the school in a short skirt and a top that presses the dress code and you are telling me now that she turned out to be a slut?!" Vennie imitated the girl in question by sticking out her chest and flouncing about. She pretended to drop something while her back was to Seth and bent over to grab it, shoving her rear as far heavenward as humanly possible. Vennie stood up again and stared Seth dead in the eye.  
"You left me for that?" She rolled her eyes. "If that is all you are looking for in a girl, you have a sick future ahead of you." She glared hatefully at him. "But answer my first question. What are you doing here?"  
Seth sighed and looked down at his feet for a moment. Then he looked back and held Ven's gaze with his own. No matter how much she hated him, he could still command her gaze when he wanted to. She crossed her arms in front of her.  
"I want you back, Vennie"  
Ven nearly choked, and her eyes bugged. "What is he thinking?!" She thought to herself. But that realized that there was no reason that she should not ask him this herself. She shook her head furiously.  
"What are you thinking?!"  
"Well...I thought..." he trailed off, staring intently at his feet again.  
"You thought what, genius?" she spat angrily at him. "That I would readily say 'yes' so I could watch you 'fool around', as you so delicately put it, with other girls? That I would fall into your arms and cry myself stupid because I was so wrong to let you go in the first place? That I would take your hand and run downstairs to announce 'we're back together' to the others? I don't think so!" She was yelling again. "Grow up, Seth. You have a lot of learning to do yet."  
They were both soaked to the bone by now. Water was dripping off of both of their faces and Vennie's ponytail was plastered to her back. She turned on here heel to go back inside, but Seth grabbed her arm. He spun her around and kissed her full on.  
Ven was taken by surprise, but that didn't last too long. Reality snapped back into motion. For the second time that day, an angry growl built in Vennie's chest. With all of the strength she had in her, she jerked her knee up into his groin. Stepping out, her right fist slammed into his belly. Seth doubled over, but stood up to look at her. Her eyes burned into his, making sure he heard every word she said.  
"You bastard! Don't you dare to ever touch me again!" She paused, her breath coming quick with anger. "Get out of my sight. Its pigs like you that make this world as chauvinistic as it is. Go and find some other girl to hold your hand. Because I want nothing to do with you."  
Seth was pissed off and sore, she could see it in his eyes. But he had lost his battle. He turned and walked gingerly across the rooftop to a thick wooden plank that had been laid across the space that separated the apartment from the building next door. It was an old industrial building that had a ladder scaling its outside wall. Vennie saw it now. That was how Seth had gotten up on her roof.  
Ven turned again to the door. She was tired and wet. Her night was ruined. There was nothing worse she could have dealt with. She was suddenly feeling spent and drained of all emotion. She put her hand out to catch the doorframe as she stepped inside, but there was already another hand there.  
Spot stood in the doorway with his hand in the place Vennie had just tried to put hers. "Perfect. Just what I need now." She spoke no one in particular again. She looked up, as if talking to heavenly spirits. "Thank you whoever did that. I now want to kill you, whoever you are."  
"Who much did you hear?" she asked him plainly. It was just a question. Not a demand or a threat. She only wanted to know. Nothing he could say could make this night worse.  
"Enough. You know him?" Spot asked in his usual sarcastic tone.  
Vennie snorted through her nose. "Knew. Past tense."  
She walked past him down the stairs, hoping he would leave her alone. She would lose control over her rage in about two seconds whether he did or not. But she would have preferred to be alone when that happened.  
But Spot followed her down the stairs like a lost dog. The two ended up at the counter stools in the kitchen and Ven grabbed a large bottle of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge before sitting down. It was the strongest substance she could get her hands on outside of liquor. They sat down and she slugged back a quarter of the bottle in one hit. Spot looked on, not saying anything. But after about three minutes of this, his curiosity got the best of him.  
"So, what happened between you and that guy on the roof? You two were friends or somet'ing?"  
"Friends. Huh, I wish it was only friends. And his name is Seth, just...by the way. But to answer your question, he and I dated for about four months. I will admit that it was a good four months and I thought it would last longer." She laughed at herself for every thinking this, took another huge pull from the bottle, and continued.  
"He was shy with me at first, but after time he warmed up. And we were fine. Until the day Amy caught his eye. After that first look at her, he was lost. I was forgotten and all he wanted was her. Being who I was at the time, I took it hard. But he didn't care. He was off with Amy, the perfect model of a future college whore. Seth never even looked at me anymore, but I was too mad to even think straight. I swore off men. I hated them and everything they stood for. But after some time, I forgot about him and moved on." Spot started to squirm at the "swearing off all men" part, but Ven only looked him in the eye and smiled in a slightly crooked manner.  
A plan was forming in her head. A plan of revenge against Spot for his tormenting her since he had moved in. This was going to be sweet.  
Vennie quickly changed her tactics. She plastered a teeth-itchingly- sweet smile on her face and leaned in closer to Spot.  
She spoke in a tone that would have anyone within 15 feet bouncing around on a sugar buzz. "But that was a while ago. I want to forget all about it. And you seem to be such a help. Thanks for listening." She leaned in even closer and gently brushed her lips over his in a seductive way. Her eyes caught his in their gaze. She kissed him again, but with a little more feeling behind it.  
Spot was taken aback. Was this really Vennie? The Vennie who had just told him she had sworn off all men? But maybe she meant to start again with them. But he was too far into the kiss to really concentrate on anything for over three seconds.  
  
(Yay...Shorty's turn! Yeah, for one whole paragraph!)  
  
"Hey, where's Vennie and Spot?" They all looked around, noticing they were missing two of their members. They had gone outside to play in the rain. Literally. A game of mud football was played in the backyard, with the Marshallites against the Villagers. Neither had won on account that the storm was getting worse.  
"I haven't seen Ven since she got home from work." They all headed back into the apartment, laughing and playing with each other. Sparks and Swinger stopped stock still, blocking the entrance for the rest.  
"Hey, guys, mind moving?" Brownie asked. Then she saw what they were staring at. The rest clamored to see, mouths dropping when their eyes met the couple making out in front of them.  
"Spot? And...and Vennie?!"  
  
A movement caught Vennie's eye as she pulled Spot closer. She saw the others standing behind him, watching both of them. "Oh this makes it even better!" she thought as the rest of the plan started to unfold in her mind. This would indeed be the sweetest revenge she could ever extract from anyone. She stopped the kiss and whispered in Spot's ear.  
"We have an audience. Can we find somewhere a little more private?" she asked him softly.  
Spot jumped at the idea that others were watching. He nodded at her and grabbed her hand, pulling her off the stool. He pulled Vennie behind him through the crowd of other drummers and down the hall to his room.  
"Perfect." Ven purred into his ear as she leaned in again. This time Spot took command. He kissed her hard, his hands getting a little free. (A/N: Oh come on! He is from Brooklyn for crying out loud!) Ven just smiled and let him feel around for a little bit.  
In the midst of another kiss, Ven swung him down on the bed. She grinned drunkenly down at him as she peeled off his shirt and used it to tie him to the bed frame.  
"Ven, what are you doing to me?" Spot asked in a husky voice. He never thought Ven to be this "experienced" in this area of expertise. But if she thought it was good, than Spot was not going to stand in her way. Besides, who didn't like a little kinky play?  
Vennie bent down and kissed him again, lingering as her hand found his waistband. "Boxers or briefs?" she questioned playfully. She yanked hard, leaving Spot in her bare boxers tied to the bed.  
"Now for my favorite part." She hummed down at him. Spot's mind was racing, trying to figure out what she would do next. But Ven didn't touch him. Instead, she went to the cupboard in his closet and pulled out the Polaroid camera Spot owned. She had seen him use it a few times before and knew where it was.  
Standing at the foot of the bed, she clicked a picture and grabbed it at it slid out of the bottom. Aiming the camera again she clicked another, and another, and another.  
"I think I have what I need. Sweet dreams." She smiled all-too- sweetly at him and blew him a kiss. "Spot, did you really think I'd do this? I'm a virgin, idiot, and plan to stay one. I can't believe you fell for this or thought I would lower my standards like that!" She laughed full-heartedly before walking out of the doorway and down the hall.  
"Ven? Vennie?! What are you doing?! Ven! Come on! What is this?! VENNIE!!" Spot yelled at the top of his lungs, twisting at the shirt hold his wrists to the bed.  
Vennie just laughed at her trick as she walked slowly down the hall to her room, holding the damning photos in her hand.  
  
A/N: There you have it! Chapter four of FDD! I did my best to make sure everyone's name was mentioned at least once. Now, review and tell Vennie what a good job she did! She wrote most of this chapter. I on the other hand only wrote about a paragraph. But I was her editor! Now, go review! Oh, and before I forget, anyone who was in this chapter (Sparks, Swinger, Irish, Brownie, Riddle, Mem, Bourbon) please go to this and read through it. Thankies much!


	5. The Godfather's Battle

Funky Drummer Demons   
Chapter 5 – The Godfather's Battle

* * *

"The gathering storm is about to break." -Nelson Demille's 'Cathedral'

* * *

"Remind me again why we're doing this? And in Shorty's car, no less?" Snitch whined, staring out the car window. Swinger turned the '93 Oldsmobile Bravada onto a different street, just missing the curb. "Hey, learn to drive! I'm not a cat, you know!"  
"Calm down, Snitch. You're alive, ain't ya?" She swung the vehicle into the parking lot of the Marshall Veterinary Hospital.  
"You still haven't answered my question."  
Swinger sighed. "Because we promised Shorty we'd ALL come to get her from work so we could go to the meeting at Godfathers. 'Member?"  
"Yay." Snitch climbed out of the Bravada, waving to the others as they pulled up. Mallets' car screeched to a stop beside the Bravada, making the '89 Silver Buick jerk a couple times. He hopped out and went to the trunk, popping it open to reveal a fuming, disheveled Bridge. Swinger and Snitch stared at him in utter shock, mouths hanging open.  
"What? She pissed us off." Mallets grinned, turning back to talk with the rest of the carload. The final vehicle of the group pulled up, the bass booming and the people inside "dancing". The 15-passenger van, colorfully decorated and extremely old, had acquired the name 'Pootermobile' by former drummers of MHS. So far, no one could figure out what it meant.  
"Been beat up, been broken down, no where but up when you're face- down on the ground, I'm in last place, if a place at all, but there's hope for this underdog. That's the way, uh huh we like it, that's the way, uh huh we like it, they call me the underdog!" Sparks climbed out of the driver's seat, singing the song at the top of her lungs. The rest of the drum line climbed out, chatting happily and acting as crazy as any other high schooler.  
"I won't even ask." Vennie led the way into the building, following the loud music coming from the back room.  
"Hey, I thought Vet clinics were supposed to play that annoying elevator music?" Boots asked.   
"Yeah, and you were supposed to wait up front for someone to come get you," Mem echoed.  
"You obviously haven't seen Shorty at work." They entered a narrow hallway lined with doors. At the end of the hallway a door stood open, light and sound bursting from it. Snickers rose from the group as they saw Shorty "at work".  
"What good is melody? What good is music? If it ain't possessing something sweet. Now it ain't the melody. And it ain't the music. There's something else that makes this tune complete, YES! It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing! Well it don't mean a thing all you got to do is sing!" Shorty jitterbugged around the room, oblivious to everything around her. A bucket of soapy water sat in a corner out of the way; a portable CD player sitting in an empty cage. The mop that was supposed to be cleaning the floor was being used as a makeshift dance partner. Every few seconds she'd calm down and continue mopping the floor. But soon she'd be dancing again, slipping and sliding on the slippery floor.  
"What is she doing?" Riddle asked, face red from containing his laughter. His girlfriend, Bourbon, had long ago given up the fight and was on the floor, rolling in hysterics.  
"Swing dancin'!" Swinger exclaimed, dancing herself. Snitch laughed and joined in, doing the moves Swinger herself had taught him. Vennie shook her head, grinning as she returned her attention to Shorty. The girl had finally calmed down enough to finish her mopping, though an occasional line from the song burst from her along with a move.  
"Hey Shorty! Do you want us to give you a little 'personal' time with that mop? We could come back later, you know." Shorty stopped where she was, bucket and mop in hand, and stared at the group. Her face could be compared to a tomato, though not as round.  
"How...how long have you guys been there?" she asked, dumping the dirty mop water down the drain. Racetrack threw an arm around her shoulder, snickering under his breath.  
"Long enough to see you and that mop burn up the floor. You two make quite a pair." Shorty shoved him, grinning.  
"And to think I untapped you from the front door. Should have just left you in your boxers for my uncle to see. Or the maintenance man." Shorty put the bucket and mop away in the closet, raising an eyebrow at the short Italian boy. "Which would you have preferred?"  
"Now, now, Shorty. Play nice. He was only complimenting you performance with the mop," The Ryan said, grinning.  
"I love you all, too." They laughed, filing out of the room.  
"You're really going to wear scrubs to Godfathers?" Itey asked Shorty as they left the building. Shorty stopped and gazed down at her at her bright orange scrubs. Her green '1981 SDSU Hobo Day' shirt showed at the collar, making it a very interesting outfit.  
"And why not? I believe I'm making a fashion statement in this lovely outfit!" Kid Blink laughed, thinking she looked like a confused carrot.  
"Sure Shorty, sure." Swinger moved to get into the driver's seat of Shorty's car, but it was not to be. Shorty ran past the girl and into her truck, quickly shutting the door and locking it.  
"Hey! Not fair!"  
"Is too fair! My truck, I drive." Swinger scowled, climbing into the back seat, Snitch following her. Demon claimed shotgun, and Peeping Tom climbed over Snitch and Swinger to hide in the way back. There were no seats in the way back, because the way back was made for storage and cargo. It was Peeping Tom's spot, and no one but him was allowed to sit there.  
"And...we're off!"  
  
"About time you guys get here. Where've you been?" Mr. P asked, checking his watch. The kids filed along the table, falling into their chairs and beginning new conversations.  
"Vet Clinic. Shorty gets easily distracted when she mops," Irish said, receiving a smack to the head from the girl.  
"So, what did you order P?" Bumlets asked, strategically placing balled up straw wrappers in people's water glasses.  
"28 pops for you guys, a water for myself, four large cheese pizzas, four large pepperonis, a supreme, three family orders of breadsticks, and the bill to be given to Demon," Mr. P said, faking a look of exhaustion. Demon blew his straw wrapper at the drum teacher, laughing when it hit Mr. P in the forehead. Mr. P laughed, balling the wrapper up and tossing it at Kid Blink. And so things went on as they normally did. Insanity ensued, the pizzas were delivered, everyone gorged, and then leaned back after they finished, happily full.  
"Alright, first order of business. Our first competition is this Saturday. I want you all to be at the school by 6 a.m., with everything loaded and ready to go by 6:30. We leave at 6:45 sharp, so you can sleep on the ride up. We play at noon." Mr. P crossed out the first thing on the notepad in front of him, quickly moving onto the second point. "Next, we need to decide what our outfits are going to be. What was our uniform last year?"  
"Jeans and black shirts. Dull as crap, P," Bridge said, scowling at the memory of last years uniforms.  
"Right. So, any ideas for this year?" The kids turned to look at Mem, who in turned blushed bright red.  
"Actually, P, we have an idea. Mem designed a pretty awesome sketch of a demon and a snare, and we came up with a shirt to go with it." Vennie pulled out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it and passing it to the teacher. Two images and someone's chicken scratch met his gaze. The top part of the paper was titled "front", and the image of a demon madly playing the snare and the words "Funky Drummer Demons" circling it was sketched on the paper. The bottom half was labeled "back", with the words "nickname and quote" filling the space. Mr. P grinned, nodding in agreement.  
"Very good, but what's the quote?"  
"Chaos, panic and disorder. Our work here is done." Brownie replied. Mr. P laughed, handing the paper back to Vennie.  
"Fits you guys to a T. So, what are you planning on wearing with the shirts? Oh, and who's going to order them?"  
"They're already ordered. They should be done by Thursday, Friday at the latest," Sparks said.  
"We were thinking about our gym shorts and a hat, any kind of hat." Mr. P raised an eyebrow, smirking.  
"Gym shorts?"  
"Yeah, like those nylon ones or whatever. But no black or white, only bright colors." Mr. P nodded in agreement, crossing off the second thing on his list.  
"Alright, last thing. Shorty, you have your people all lined up?" An evil grin lit up Shorty's face, making a few people laugh.  
"All lined up and ready. I have them wrapped around my little finger." The table erupted in laughter, making most of the other customer's scowl at them.  
  
Silence. Complete, eerie, unusual silence. It filled the apartment, sinking into each person like a sponge soaking in water. Some call it the calm before the storm, a prelude to something massive. Whatever it was, it had taken hold of the drummers, making them edgy and alert. Something was about to happen, and everyone knew it.  
It struck without warning, quick as lighting. But it wasn't over in a flash. It rumbled like thunder, growing louder and fiercer with each passing moment.  
It began with Puck. While making his way to his room, he tripped on one of the many things that lay scattered on the floor. He fell, cracking heads with someone coming towards him. That person happened to be Spot.  
"Watch where you're walking!" Spot growled, holding a hand to his aching head.  
"Sorry!" Puck replied sarcastically, pushing past the Village leader. No sooner had he walked five feet he fell again, this time with the aid of someone on his back. They wrestled on the floor, crashing against walls and rolling over scattered objects. Their angry shouts roused the rest of the drum line. They ran to the boys, forming a ring around Spot and Puck.  
"Guys! Stop!" Mush tried to pull the boys apart, receiving an elbow to the face for his efforts. He reeled back, crashing into Seeker.  
"Get off me!" She shoved him hard, causing him to knock Runt over. Angered by this, Runt launched herself at Mush, missing him when he stumbled to the side. Instead she fell on Boots, rounding her punches on him.  
And so the battle began. Brought on by an unknown tension, the drummers warred against one another; Villagers vs. Marshallites.  
  
"Oh no you didn't!" The water balloon barely missed his head, the rubber bomb breaking against the wall behind him. People were fighting on the floor; someone were nursing wounds, while others launched attacks from behind the kitchen counter. The fight had spread from the hall to cover most of the living room, kitchen, and the hallway that the bedrooms were on.  
Shorty had retreated to the roof, hauling her practice snare and sticks behind her. Demon tried to follow, but she locked the door behind her, and only the sound of her beating the snot out of her drum let him know she was upset. So Demon returned to try and stop the fray, barely escaping the fighting on the floor let alone aerial attacks. In the end he joined the Marshallites in the fight.  
"Guys! Now what are you fighting for?" Josh yelled over the chaos, searching out one of the leaders. He found Spot wrestling with Puck near the couch, carefully pulling the fighting boys apart. They struggled to escape, each boy's face twisted in anger. "Whoa, slow down kiddies. What are you fighting about this time?"  
"Let me at him!" Puck yelled, straining against Josh's hold. Suddenly Josh was ripped backward, landing on his back on the floor. Spot and Puck returned to wrestle, each screaming their anger. Josh found himself being pummeled by Jack, the older boy's fists coming in sharp contact with his face. He fought the older boy, finally pinning him to the floor.  
"This has to stop! People are trying to sleep, we have school tomorrow, and you've got Shorty scared out of her mind, not to mention half the building ready to call the police." Cowboy slowed his struggles, realization sinking in. Though he continued to loath the Marshallites, what the junior had said made sense. Josh stood up, reaching out a hand to help him up. Jack accepted, frowning. He turned to look at the fray, his frown deepening.  
"People! STOP!" Though it took a few minutes, the drum line ceased their battle, each looking up at Jack and Josh. "Everyone get to bed. No more fighting, no more arguing, no more talking period. I don't want to hear a word out of anyone, is that clear?" The group nodded, slowly getting up and shuffling towards their rooms. Josh sighed in relief, turning to look at Jack.  
"Thank you. Now I can sleep." He turned to leave, pausing at the doorway to say, "Oh, and could you tell Demon that Shorty's spending the night with us?"  
"Why is she over there?"  
"She can't stand yelling, especially all out fights like this one was. She'll be fine in the morning, I promise you. Good night!" Josh closed the door behind him, leaving Jack alone in the large room. Jack shook his head, this mind reeling with thoughts and questions. It appeared that war was on the horizon, and things would only get worse before they got better.

* * *

Yes, I rewrote the ending to this chapter. Ven said it didn't make sense, so I went back and thought of something different. Hope ya liked it! Thank you all so much for your reviews and support. I've started work on chapter 6 already, so don't you worry. I've also got the entire story plotted out, including the epilogue. If you have anything you'd like for me to add to the story, or you have suggestions, drop a line. Don't care where; just drop it where I can find it. Oh, I must thank my muses. Jordan had quite a lot of fun adding her own little quips to this chapter. Go, review! Read more stories! Or I'll sic my muses on you!  
  
The song that Shorty sings is "It Don't Mean a Thing..." by Duke Ellington (awesome song!). The song that Sparks sings is "Underdog" by Audio Adrenaline. 


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